


copium

by alchamess



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anyways I don't know what else I need to tag. I'm too tired., Consensual Dubcon, Dom/sub Undertones, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I NEEDED TO SEE SOME IN THE FANDOM, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Robohand Porn, Second part contains:, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because catharsis is a beautiful thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchamess/pseuds/alchamess
Summary: we are all addicted to our way of thinking





	1. virtue

**Author's Note:**

> That by which one does good deeds, demonstrating a higher standard of moral development.

_Keith where are you going?!_

Hunk’s voice crackles over the comm speakers in his helmet, but Keith can’t hear him. His ears ring with the sound of laser fire ricocheting off his shield as his every step carries him into a swarm of oncoming Galra soldiers.

Infiltrating the prison carriage isn’t part of the plan, but like hell is he about to let Galra captives go down with the shuttle.

Every misstep is a step back. That’s what Keith always tells himself, anyways. The last thing he wants is to see more lives ruined. The second-last thing he wants is to be dead weight on the team, on Shiro. He’s trying so hard to keep their heads up, the way he always does - he makes it look so easy, but Keith sees him when everything’s quiet and he knows that Shiro trusts little and sleeps less. That’s why Keith has to do this right, and he has to do it now.

Pidge yells through the intercom that _the bomb is going to detonate soon, Keith._ Lance tells him to _get your ass out of there unless you want to become space popcorn chicken, Keith._ Shiro sa-

A laser blast to the side of his helm cuts the radio signal.

His blade swings.

\-------------------------------------

 _Keith what were you thinking?_ Allura’s voice is shrill when he wakes up in the healing pod. He has a smattering of new scars on his body. _Keith, you could have DIED._

A lot of people DID die, he thinks to himself as the team swarms him. They bob and fuss in a blur of mixed frustration and concern. Shiro stands out clearly at the edge of his vision, and Keith does his best to focus on anything but him.

Sure, he saved the lucky ones, but it wasn’t all of them, and that was what really mattered. A lot of innocent people fucking died because Keith lost too much blood to hit a fucking button before the hull of the ship blew out from under him. They had trusted him with their LIVES.

Keith had watched them die as they were sucked into the abyssal vacuum of space with him.

At least HE’D had a giant pseudo-conscious lion vessel to save him, he thinks bitterly.

\-------------------------------------

_Keith?_

Shiro finds him in the hangar later, just like Keith hoped he wouldn’t (but knew he would). There was only so much space in this castle, and Red didn’t want to hide him inside her where nobody else could get to him. Damn cat. He’d skipped the training area on accounts of it being too obvious, and the unending mechanical hum of the holodeck containment units nearly drove him mad.

So instead, he’s huddled behind one of Red’s paws, out of sight from the door.

Keith doesn’t answer as Shiro approaches softly. He can’t bring himself to look at his lover, who stops to sit at his side.

_You didn’t do anything wrong._

 His voice is so gentle that Keith could scream. Instead, he lets Shiro put an arm around his shoulder and pull him close. They sit like that for a few minutes.

 “I couldn’t-”

 A hand on his chin turning Keith to face Shiro, a finger pressed against his lips to shush him.

_You did everything right, but the odds were slim from the start._

 He knows. He KNOWS but dammit dammit DAMMIT he could’ve done it if he had just-

  _Keith. You can ask for it if you want it._

 Hot tears drip off his chin.

 “I need it,” he chokes out.

\-------------------------------------

_Keith._

His name always sounds best when Keith asks for it, and it’s not just because Shiro’s voice is rough with arousal against the nape of his neck. It hangs in the air with reverence, with trust, with devotion, with things that Keith knows he doesn’t deserve, not from Shiro at least. Not from the man he would bottle the stars and everything between them for if he could.

When he asks for it, Shiro doesn’t hold anything back. The tenderness catches him like a hard left hook every time and leaves him gasping for air.

The bed springs murmur beneath him. His lover murmurs above him.

 _You remember the safeword, right?_ Keith does. It’s onomatopoeia.

 _You’re so good._ Shiro whispers as he rolls Keith’s jeans down (they come off with minimal struggle in this atmosphere and join shirts and assorted other pieces of clothing on the floor), pressing his lips just under the line of his jaw. Then down. And down. And down. His nose drags gently along the plane of Keith’s stomach. _You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?_

Keith whimpers and shivers. Oh god, if only he knew.

The mouth on his hipbones commands: _Answer me._

“Yes,” he pants, almost not recognizing his own voice even though he’s desperately trying to keep it even. Shiro bites him in reward, and his spine arcs. “I’m... a good boy.” He earns another bite along the inner thigh for going the extra mile and god fuck that’s going to leave a mark. He loves it.

_You did such a good job, back there, Keith._

Shiro’s fingers knead gently into his skin.

_I can’t believe how incredible you are, taking out all those Galra the way you did._

He’s barely even been touched but he’s already shaking and hard.

_You’re amazing._

No.

_You deserve a reward._

No.

_What do you want, baby? Tell me._

“A kiss.”

 _A kiss?_ His lover shifts, sliding gently back up the length of Keith’s body. His eyes are dark, adoring, and Keith knows he means every single word. Shiro _loves_ him, really loves _him_ of all people, and, god, love may not be a good enough word to describe the way Shiro fills every nook and cranny of Keith in all the best ways.

“And… your hand.”

They both know which hand Keith means, but Shiro teases him anyways. _This hand?_ Flesh fingers trace gently along the line of Keith’s taint.

Keith bites down on his lip and shakes his head. “Your other hand.”

Shiro closes his robotic hand around his dick with just enough pressure that Keith can feel the artificial heat and the hum of alien technology. The first time Shiro used it, he was terrified, but they worked through it, and the experience was phenomenal. It should’ve been criminal to have so many… utilities installed, and yet Keith was grateful for every single one.

 _Your wish,_ Shiro whispers as he presses first his forehead to Keith’s, then his mouth. The kiss is slow, tender, unharried by time. Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and himself be swept out to sea. That is the point of this “exercise” after all. Keith lets Shiro give the way he normally wouldn’t because he’s so afraid to take.

And Shiro gives.

His touch teases south. He presses one finger into Keith, who feels the familiar slide of automatic lubrication inside of him and spreads his legs wider and opens his mouth more. They make quick work of one finger and move up to two, because that’s when Keith gets what he wants.

The heat starts low and barely registers above body temperature, but as they kiss (and kiss and bite and break the surface of intimacy for air before they go under again) Keith can feel his insides grow warmer until there’s a pleasant heat pulsing inside of him. And then oh _oh_ Shiro begins to work him open.

Keith feels himself loosen more as he’s fucked open nail to knuckle and back. It’s heated and slippery and sloppy. He loves the way Shiro crooks his fingers right there just like that mmm yeah.

He comes suddenly to his lover’s human hand gently rubbing him off and his robot hand roughly stirring him up inside because Shiro pulls back and just enough to look at him with those eyes and murmur _Beautiful_.

Of course the ride doesn’t stop there; Keith stretches up and hooks his hand over the pillow under his head. Hair is stuck to his face with sweat and he’s breathing slow and hard.

Shiro’s fingers reach as far into Keith as they can and begin to vibrate, causing him to moan out loud and near-instantly jump to half-mast. The way he rocks down on Shiro’s hand is shameless and needy, and Shiro responds with words spoken softly along the shell of Keith’s ear.

_I love you like this. I love you always. You work all the time and never get rewarded enough. I’ll give you anything. I’ll give you everything. You deserve everything. You’re so magnificent. You’re so stunning. You’re my whole world. My good, good boy._

Keith positively writhes. He could easily come a second time just from this. He doesn’t though.

“Enough,” Keith half-begs, half-demands. His left leg is bent at the knee and grinds up against the ever-growing erection between Shiro’s legs. The low sound Shiro lets out makes Keith’s hips jerk reflexively. He scrambles and pushes at the metal hand shaking and hot inside him. He scrambles and pushes at the remaining clothes between them. “Enough. More. More.” Keith is loose, lusting, lets himself want.

And Shiro gives.

The first thrust is a relief and Keith hangs on for dear life as Shiro gives again again please again harder harder yes _fuck_ yes _-!_

They kiss to stem the babbling. Whatever kept Shiro’s self-control under wraps dissolves rapidly and his hips move so powerfully that Keith can feel himself drooling from being pounded into the mattress.

At some point, he stops seeing straight. He closes his eyes and sees fireworks bloom behind his eyelids.

 _Keith,_ Shiro groans. Keith’s hands are lifted from his lover’s broad shoulders which he had inadvertently scratched up and pressed up on either side of his head. They lock fingers. The smell of sex invades his senses. He’s addicted to this, no matter how bad he tries to keep himself from it.

“Shiro-!” His mouth forms messily around the name and he begins to tremble from the sensory overload.

_Fuck. I love you, Keith. You- you can do it. Come for me, god. Be good-_

Keith comes so hard that he discovers a new constellation before he whites out.

When he comes to, Shiro is splayed heavily on top of him with one finger tiredly playing with Keith’s hair.

“I love you,” Keith whispers.


	2. vice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other - laurence sterne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That by which one corrupts or is corrupted. A display of immoral or wicked behavior.

_ Shiro,  _ says Allura one night,  _ the nightmares will fade eventually _ .  _ You just need to sleep. Let yourself be well _ .

In the Galra prison cells, there was no such thing as being well. There was only his blade (relentlessly sharpened so that he could cut through warriors, criminals, beasts, captives - anything that they set loose upon him) or his life.

There was only the wicked grins lit all around him as he was ordered to kill, the hot splash of blood, the space following the pleas for mercy.

There was only the guilt which gnawed at him when they threw him back into his unlit cell.

Shiro doesn’t know how to tell her this.

\-------------------------------------

He devotes himself to their cause: to defeat the Galra empire in its entirety, and restore peace to the universe. They took his hand, they took years of his life, they took pieces of his sanity, but they won’t take this.

Some days, Team Voltron takes great strides, destroying battleships, hitting cargo points, and hacking mainframe after precious mainframe.

Some days, they do not.

\-------------------------------------

The hyper-jump through space is a last-ditch attempt to escape, and they return to the castle exhausted, battered, drained, loose-limbed, frustrated. Nobody’s injured enough to need a healing pod, at least not physically anyways. Some days, the fight just doesn’t feel worth it. Failure will do that to a person. 

We did our best, and managed to save some of the captured civilians, Shiro says. “I know it’s tough, but not everyone can be saved.” 

Lance says (and Shiro knows he doesn’t mean it this way) that “everyone  _ should _ be saved” under his breath.

Keith says nothing, but gives him a look.

He forces himself to nod solemnly and dismiss the team, telling them tomorrow would come no matter what, and that they have to rest even when the Galrans would not. He forces himself to walk away and think about how nice it is that Hunk has been influencing Lance in a positive direction. 

He tries to not think about his glaring flaws and the crushing weight of a leadership role thrust upon him his inability to keep it together when he was alone during simulated rest hours fighting off sleep his nightmares when sleep forcibly overtakes him -  _ flashbacks dripping sweat tensed muscles filthy and unwashed for days at times the sensation of bloodied knuckles and cracking bone fighting thrashing beating being beaten experiments on him foreign instruments that hummed and crackled his own arm sawed from his body while he was forced to watch _ \--

Keith lays a hand on his shoulder and everything stills. He drops back into reality and lands on his feet with a crash.

They are standing in the training room, surrounded by the gentle hum of robotic dummies on standby. 

He lets out a breath that he’d been holding in and his lungs scream with relief. Keith watches him so intently that Shiro can feel the light sweat beading on his forehead. Those eyes make him feel so the strain of how poorly he’s holding together, and just how much Keith has loved him, continues to love him, even after all these years. Even after he’s barely the same person now.

"Hey."

_ You don’t have to force yourself to smile. _

Ah. He hadn’t even noticed.

Keith reaches up and cups his cheeks, runs thumbs across them gently that Shiro flinches. Keith understands, though. He always understands. Turning his head gently, he presses a kiss to Keith’s gloved palm.

_ Do you need it tonight? _

Shiro does. He desperately does.

\-------------------------------------

_ Shiro. _

His name sounds better when Shiro takes it, and it has everything to do with how he is forced to take it. It’s all consensual of course, the shoving, the scratching, the hands pushing him down to a sitting position onto his bunk and squeezing his jaw, the pressure painful enough to open it.

He asks for this because he wants it. Everyone wants so much from him, and he gives as much as he can, but without this, he’s not complete.

The fingers on his face press his cheeks in again, signaling for him to leave his mouth open. Shiro looks up at Keith as his hand withdraws. Keith looks back with the most gentle eyes for a moment, a silent reminder that everything about to happen is because he loves Shiro enough to make his heart hurt. This is all for him. Then his face hardens, his lips pull back into a sneer.

_ Look at you _ , and his voice is hot wax running in burning rivulets down his body,  _ making that face even though you know what’s coming. You look like you want pity, but we both know what you really want. Keep your teeth covered. _

His whole body shivers. He makes sure to keep his jaw open.

Keith slides his dick into Shiro’s mouth, pressing all the way in until Shiro’s nose is at his pubic bone and his eyes are watering as he battles his gag reflex. It makes him feel disgusting, debased, debauched. It makes him feel more human on days like this, when the alien pulse of his right arm seemingly sears him where flesh meets metal.

_ You took my whole dick in one go this time. Are you starting to get used to this, you sick fucking slut? Of course you are. This is the only thing you’re good for. _

The words bite, and Shiro lowers his gaze immediately, shame burning his cheeks like fire. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Keith’s got a hand buried to the roots of his hair, twisting and gripping and forcing Shiro to look up again with a small noise of pain.

_ Look at me when I’m talking to you _ , he hisses.

There’s no room for disagreement or thought. He’s Keith’s now - it is part of the cycle - and Keith is pushing and pulling him along the length of the dick in his mouth. Everything is sore and tears sting at the corner of his eyes, and he fights to keep focused on his lover.

Keith is trying so hard to keep up the persona above him as he throatfucks Shiro closer and closer to the edge. His face flickers between trying to be commanding and waves of pleasure, and Shiro watches him with adoring eyes.

When Keith catches him staring, his hips slam inwards, and he bends over Shiro with a shout. Shiro feels him cum, thick and warm, down his throat in soft pulses.

_ Swallow it _ , Keith whispers as he pulls out, and Shiro does so, obediently, and with little difficulty, despite the fact that Keith can’t keep up the persona anymore. After it’s all down, his lover plants a hand on his chest and pushes him  _ Down, boy _ .

The two of them devolve into kisses and touches from there. Their bodies slide against each other as Keith jerks him off, one hand gently running through his hair until he’s almost there. It’s the gentle whisper of  _ Go ahead _ against the shell of his ear that causes him to arc off the mattress. For a moment, he forgets, and it’s bliss.

When he comes down from the high, he’s sweating and panting and Keith is still there by his side, already beginning to clean him off. They curl in for the night, and before Shiro passes into a dreamless sleep, he presses a loving kiss to Keith’s forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd been meaning to finish this chapter for ages, and now it's finally done! time to get back to other projects


End file.
